Chapter 11

_A Room in Mistress Mary's House_.

_Enter_ MISTRESS MARY, MISTRESS SPLAY, _and_ BRABO.

BRA. Mistress, I long have serv'd you, even since These bristled hairs upon my grave-like chin Were all unborn; when I first came to you, These infant feathers of these ravens' wings Were not once begun.

MRS SPLAY. No, indeed, they were not.

BRA. Now in my two moustachios for a need, (Wanting a rope) I well could hang myself; I prythee, mistress, for all my long service, For all the love that I have borne thee long, Do me this favour now, to marry me.

_Enter_ YOUNG MASTER ARTHUR.

MRS MA. Marry, come up, you blockhead! you great ass! What! wouldst thou have me marry with a devil! But peace, no more; here comes the silly fool, That we so long have set our lime-twigs for; Begone, and leave me to entangle him.

[_Exeunt_ MISTRESS SPLAY _and_ BRABO.

Y. ART. What, Mistress Mary?

MRS MA. O good Master Arthur, Where have you been this week, this month, this year? This year, said I? where have you been this age? Unto a lover ev'ry minute seems Time out of mind: How should I think you love me, That can endure to stay so long from me?

Y. ART. I' faith, sweetheart, I saw thee yesternight.

MRS MA. Ay, true, you did, but since you saw me not; At twelve o'clock you parted from my house, And now 'tis morning, and new-strucken seven; Seven hours thou stay'd'st from me; why didst thou so? They are my seven years' 'prenticeship of woe.

Y. ART. I prythee, be patient; I had some occasion That did enforce me from thee yesternight.

MRS MA. Ay, you are soon enforc'd; fool that I am, To dote on one that nought respecteth me! 'Tis but my fortune, I am born to bear it, And ev'ry one shall have their destiny.

Y. ART. Nay, weep not, wench; thou wound'st me with thy tears.

MRS MA. I am a fool, and so you make me too; These tears were better kept than spent in waste On one that neither tenders them nor me. What remedy? but if I chance to die, Or to miscarry with that I go withal, I'll take my death that thou art cause thereof; You told me that, when your wife was dead, You would forsake all others, and take me.

Y. ART. I told thee so, and I will keep my word, And for that end I came thus early to thee; I have procur'd a licence, and this night We will be married in a lawless[20] church.

MRS. MA. These news revive me, and do somewhat ease The thought that was new-gotten to my heart. But shall it be to-night?

Y. ART. Ay, wench, to-night. A se'nnight and odd days, since my wife died, Is past already, and her timeless death Is but a nine-days' talk; come, go with me, And it shall be despatched presently.

MRS. MA. Nay, then, I see thou lov'st me; and I find By this last motion thou art grown more kind.

Y. ART. My love and kindness, like my age, shall grow, And with the time increase; and thou shalt see The older I grow, the kinder I will be.

MRS. MA, Ay, so I hope it will; but, as for mine, That with my age shall day by day decline. [_Aside_. Come, shall we go?

Y. ART. With thee to the world's end, Whose beauty most admire, and all commend.

[_Exeunt_.